The tales of a back to college boymom who never really has it all figured out.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

This morning I woke up an hour before Wesley did. I got some coffee, sat down at the computer and enjoyed it. Then I swept and mopped all three hardwood floors in my house and sorted a load of laundry. When Wesley awoke we played and cooed and his brothers joined in on the fun. We went outside. He took his medicine and then we nursed and he drifted off to sleep for his morning nap. I placed him in his swing and unloaded/loaded the dishwasher. Fed the boys breakfast, surfed the web, did some more laundry. Wesley slept about an hour and a half, we got up nursed and played and an hour later he is napping again.

Sounds like I have my life sorted. Everything under control.

But this my friends, is what I might post on Facebook. The things we choose to expose to our friends and families. The pretty picture. The good days. The supermom moments.

I know good and well this is just a good day. Tomorrow will be different.

I am deep in the clenching grip of post partum depression. This feels heavy. Like something I'll never dig my way out of. Ever so often I have heard me mutter to myself about how I should've gone to college... should've had something going for myself except this. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids, would die for them. But they've taken me away from myself. It's not their fault. They need me. I need me.

Most days there is yelling. Occasionally from me. Mostly it's the boys fighting with each other. Wesley's routines are so cray and vary day to day. He doesn't sleep in the boba wrap anymore. He sleeps in his swing or on me. Which sometimes ties me down to where I can't tend to the older boys. I need a clone of myself. That way I could leave the house with the kids in it and everything wouldn't fall apart.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

I love Reggae music. Good reggae, like, anything from anybody with the last name Marley (Bob, Ziggy, Stephen) and anything that sings the true spirit of reggae and perhaps some ganga references and speak of political unrest that was Kingston in the 70's can be thrown in, that's cool. I'm not into newer reggae, where they only sing about marijuana use and guns. No thanks.

Hayden likes my reggae too. We dance in the house, keeping beat with the music. He likes Pink and Lady Gaga as well. I'm glad he's free to like what he likes without peer influence. He has time to develop into the person he wants to be and I love that.

Music has become my best friend. I listen to it all day. Home alone with 4 kids all day is lonely sometimes. One good thing about music, when it hits you feel no pain.

Time. I've grown to hate clocks because I am constantly watching them. I check it first thing in the morning when I wake up, because 2 hours after that I have to give Wesley his medicine and then half an hour after that he can eat. Then while he is napping, we do school... then oh wait it's time for lunch. Then Wes is awake it's time for him to nurse, and then every 2 hours after that, every 30 minutes we put Jude on the pot... 3 days now in underwear and only pullups at night. Doing very well. What would my life be like without the clock to rule it? What did people do before there were clocks? I guess they just fed on demand and trusted their bodies and their children to lead the way.

"oh Jah. The cre-a-tah" oh wait- I don't worship Jah. But the sound of my voice in my thoughts is totally Jamaican right now.

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

I realize my last post was titled 6 weeks, which means I haven't blogged in 5.5 weeks. I'm a really crappy blogger. This blog wasn't meant to be a blog where I occasionally blog about my kids and their ailments, it was supposed to be a creative outlet for myself. But creativity got lost somewhere at the corner of life with 4 boys, that's not always flowers and sausages.

Truth is, right now I am terrified. That kind of terrified that gets caught in my chest. Feels like I need a cigarette (which in June we quit 4 years ago) or somebody knocked the wind out of me.

Dylan has been having HORRIBLE headaches for the past week, maybe two. He has always had headaches since he's had the brain inflammation, but these are recurring every single day, once or twice a day and do not go away without ibuprofen. He cries with them and can't seem to function well. All he has wanted to do since they started is watch tv. That's not really Dylan, he likes to play outside.

I took him to the doctor yesterday about it and they couldn't offer an explanation or anything. That's sort of why we avoid pediatricians with Dylan. They simply don't know enough about Dylan or his condition to help him. I took him there yesterday mainly in hopes that he had an ear infection or something simple but we weren't that lucky.

He doesn't have any neurological symptoms so I don't suspect that he is sick again, but with Dylan everything is so hard to tell, he just had an Mri in January so the odds that he is sick again are slim, and he has been on Solumedrol injections since then as well so the likely that inflammation broke through that is slim, but if it has, it's even scarier because that would mean that steroids aren't working anymore...

So, if you can, if you will. Whatever you do, pray, dance in the woods, chant, light a candle... please do it for my boy.

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Wes turns 6 weeks tomorrow! You'd probably expect me to say it flew right by, but it did not. It's been a ride, and we are still on that ride, but with a lot less tears these days.

I changed Wesley's doctor to a doctor that would actually listen to me and treat my child. I've never had to push for medicine for my baby before, but when your baby is in pain, you do what you have to do to help him. The zantac was just not strong enough. I changed my diet... I'm now dairy, caffeine and chocolate free. In addition to wheat and sugar free. Basically any food that might bring you pleasure, I cannot have. It's temporary. He won't have reflux forever. He won't be nursing forever. But for the right now, he is. It's the best thing for him (and me!) and as a mother, we do what's best for our kids, in spite of ourselves.

So he was changed from zantac to Prevacid. He has been on it for three days now and we can already tell a difference. He smiled at me yesterday! And you can hold Wes now and he wont cry! In fact, most of the tears are reserved for diaper changes and intense hunger.

The past 6 weeks have been hell, but I'm looking forward to the next 6 weeks and beyond being much easier.

The older wildboys are doing fine... God bless them, they never asked why Wes cried so much. Never complained. Just kept kissing him and loving him. I wish I could find my inner wildboy. So much unconditional love.. that's kids for ya. I wish I could say I had been as graceful about Wes' tears, but they brought me down with him. As good as I am at falling down, I can get right back up. We are learning this life together.

Dylan had an appt with his Neuro on the 8th and I never updated anyone on how he's doing. Dylan's MRI results were fantastic. His old scars are healing and his brain looks much better. We are awaiting the results of his PDH enzyme lab work, and when they come in we will reevaluate the need for steroids. If he is PDH deficient, he will stop steroids and start a low sugar low carb diet. If he is not deficient, continue steroids at Doc Veda's word. I got a phone call the other day telling me that Veda has changed him from once weekly steroids to biweekly steroids, so he won't get them as often now. So we are getting further away from them, slowly but surely.

Saturday, February 2, 2013

In all my childbearin' years (which come to an end as of February 21st because I am SOOOO getting my tubes tied) I was so happy I had relatively easy babies. I would hear horror stories of parents with their colicky babies, rocking them and walking them all hours of the night in a sleepy stupor, and be so thankful that wasn't me. 3 times I had babies and not a drop of colic.

Then came Wesley.

If you have ever seen the movie Multiplicity with Michael Keaton, there's a line in that movie that goes something like.. when you keep making copies of something... they start to not come out so sharp... now I know that doesn't apply to my children. They aren't copies of me or my husband and I am not implying that they keep coming out less intelligent, but they are sort of replications. A roll of the dice, a chocolate in one of those assorted boxes. You really never know what you are going to get. This time we rolled the dice and got a reflux baby. He's lucky he's so adorable.

*** I had to stop typing because there was a shriek from the bathroom. Somebody left a surprise in the bathtub. Wildboy style. ***

Since the very day he was born, Wes has had reflux. His reflux is not the kind that Dylan had. Dylan was dubbed a "happy spitter". Dylan puked all day every day until he was 9 or 10 months old. He wasn't made uncomfortable about it and he gained weight and was thriving. The difference in Dylan's reflux and Wesley's reflux is that Wesley's is silent reflux. He rarely spits up, but he is in agonizing pain from it. He is constantly arching his back and in general discomfort. It's been very difficult these past four weeks trying to figure out exactly what was going on with him. I cut dairy out of my diet, as well as chocolate and coffee. Eating is not something I enjoy anymore, it's merely something I do to stay alive. I'm currently eliminating one thing at a time to see if I can pinpoint something that is bothering my baby. I might just be grasping at straws, but I won't stop until I figure this out. If it's just reflux, it's just reflux. But if there's any chance it's a food allergy I will find out.

We ended up taking Wes to the doctor about it Tuesday. I hate taking my kids to the doctor, so it's obviously something that has been consuming our lives. He started Wesley on Zantac. I have done my research and I am a little apprehensive about it. Zantac doesn't have a great reputation of being an effective medicine for reflux babies. Most end up on Prevacid.

Today is Wes' fourth day on Zantac and it was not until yesterday that we saw real improvement. Yesterday was the first day in a string of several days that I did not cry even once. When my baby is in pain and crying and I can't help him, it makes me cry. Add that on top of my other 3 wildboys that I'm spending less time with and the house I can't keep up with and the meals I want to cook but can't and wouldn't know what to cook because I can't eat anything.... I'm drowning most days. This too shall pass. It will get better. I will figure this out. Wes will grow out of reflux. But the right now is hard. Wes sleeps great, he takes long naps in the day. But when your baby has been screaming and then finally falls asleep, the last thing you want to do is wash dishes or cook. I end up pacing the house thinking he might wake up any minute. Then I go play with my kids because hell, I miss them.

Things are looking up though. He is starting to coo which is fun. He's obviously trying to tell me that he loves me and thanks for the boobies. I just know that's what he means anyways.

Monday, January 14, 2013

It's taken me a while to get around to writing this, because well I've been busy. Newborns are hard work. 4 kids are hard work. Major hormone shifts are hard work.

And major hormone shifts are not something I do very well with. With each and every child I've birthed has come with them a period that lasts around a week where I cry, have anxiety attacks ... it's just generally a rough time. I've been very blessed and fortunate to have my husband stay with me for the weeks following birth, this time, he has been with me since then and longer, since their work is stalled at the moment. Something that would normally make me freak out, is such a blessing. Going from 1 to 2 kids, I've always thought was the hardest thing I have ever done. 2 to 3 kids, a breeze. Going from 3 to 4 is like drowning,... and someone throws you a baby. I know things will get better. Wesley won't need me so much in the weeks and months to come and instead of looking forward to a time where I'm not stuck on the couch nursing all.day.long, I'm trying to look at it like this is the last time I will be able to nurse a newborn all.day.long. He's only going to grow up. He'll only get more independent.

With all that said, Wesley was due to be evicted on January 7th, but he was ready a day early! I woke up Sunday morning with some pretty tough braxton hicks contractions. The kind that wrap around into your back. I knew what that meant, having only gone into labor naturally with one other wildboy (Hayden) that is just not a pain you forget. We had so much to do Sunday. We needed to finish the laundry, I was gonna bake stuff to have here for the boys to eat while I was in the hospital, I needed to buy groceries, was gonna visit with some family before the baby got here..... but the baby got here. I took a hot bath hoping that they would subside and they only got worse. We started calling people to keep the boys. We couldn't get a hold of anyone. We had someone lined up, but it was for the next day, not that day. Going in to labor and needing to stick 3 kids somewhere and having no where to do that is scary. So my lovely sister in law kept them while we rushed to the hospital. We got there and they put me on the monitors and checked my cervix. I was dialated 2 centimeters and was indeed having contractions. They called my MD who was willing to come in and do my section on his day off (wasn't that nice of him?) so I was left to labor until he arrived. Looking back, that felt like an eternity but was probably only a couple of hours.

My mother and my husband and I were in a room about the size of a walk in closet while contraction after contractions struck me. I tried to be graceful but that shit hurts. I had just gotten out of my mouth that I wished my water would break so I wouldn't think they would send me home.... and I felt that warm rush of amniotic fluid... my water had broken. There was no turning back now.

A hundred million years later, the anesthesiologist and my doc graced us with their presence. I was gonna get a spinal! It was gonna be marvelous! I was not afraid of it at all like I had been. When I went for my section with Jude, my blood pressure dropped after they took him out of me, creating the worst headache of my life that lasted all of maybe a minute. But it sucked. Fortunately that didn't happen this time. Wesley came out squawling, the doc thought he was breech, but it turned out it was just his ginormous head. He weighed 8 lbs 9.6 oz, the biggest wildboy (at birth) yet.

Recovery was as good as one might expect. Wesley came in the room with us around 2 hours later, which bothers me still. I just wanted my baby, they shouldn't make you wait so long. His first night was kinda rough. He slept alright, but I had guzzled a diet coke around 9 pm so I never slept a wink. The rest of the hospital stay is mostly blurry in hindsight, but since we have been home we have discovered he has reflux and is probably the gassiest child I have ever met. This has made for a few rough nights but mostly smooth sailing. We are learning how to work him, these things take time. He has to sleep at an incline so that he doesn't get choked on reflux. It's very scary to watch your newborn lose his breath due to reflux and something I hope to not see too many times.

So while the past week was crazy, I know the next several weeks will be crazy too:) I'm starting to feel more like myself again. The original wildboys are adjusting well, they all want to hold Wesley. And only ever seem to ask when I'm nursing him or he's wailing. I know in time we will roll into a rhythm and it will be like he was never not here. In time.